


Help me, i cant breathe.

by VoteForEggNoodles



Category: Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), Spider-Man - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Blood and Injury, Broken Bones, Building Collapse, Cat, Claustrophobia, Dick Adrian Toomes, Hurt Peter, Hurt Peter Parker, Hurt Tony Stark, Not Spider-Man: Far From Home Compliant, Original Character(s), Original Female Character(s) - Freeform, POV Third Person, Panic Attacks, Parent Tony Stark, Peter Parker Calls Tony Stark "Dad", Peter Parker Cries, Peter Parker Has Anxiety, Peter Parker Has Issues, Peter Parker Has Panic Attacks, Peter Parker Has a Bad Day, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Peter Parker Whump, Peter Parker has PTSD, Peter Parker is a Mess, Peter Parker-centric, Poor Peter Parker, Post-Serum Steve Rogers, Post-Spider-Man: Homecoming, Protective Steve Rogers, Protective Tony Stark, There is some of peters thoughts thrown in for the bants, Tight Spaces, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Tony Stark Feels, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Has Issues, Tony Stark Is a Good Bro, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, claustrophobic peter parker, in bold, just briefly though - Freeform, kind of, or sometimes in brackets, rubble - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-01
Updated: 2021-02-01
Packaged: 2021-03-12 07:13:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,114
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29131623
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VoteForEggNoodles/pseuds/VoteForEggNoodles
Summary: A bomb explosion leaves Peter Parker trapped underneath the rubble. Deeming himself to be lesser than the general public he doesn’t tell the Avengers and lays at the bottom of the rubble until they have finished defeating the criminal responsible.
Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Comments: 6
Kudos: 187





	Help me, i cant breathe.

Smoke was building up around Peter as he rampaged swiftly through the third floor of the rundown apartment block. Not many lived here anymore and even less were inside the building when it was attacked with an explosive. The explosive created a significant dent in the south west quarter of the building, causing it to be left unsteady and susceptible to a collapse. The explosion then created a fire within the building, it must have damaged some wires or something. Those who could escape did, and those who haven't managed it relied on a single man to get them out. Flames rose higher as a boy risked his life for that of a civilians. In the distance you could hear the bangs of cars colliding with other cars, the screams of the innocent-simply caught up in this battle- and the whizzing of bullets coming from the enemy. To Peter, with his enhanced senses the hubbub sounds like it was right next to him but he knew that logically the violence was happening around two streets over.

"Hello? Is there anybody still here?"

Peter called out into the smoke as he kicked open doors either side of the corridor he dashed down. Trying his best to focus his hearing to the floor he was on he called out again. And again. Until a feeble voice cried out- throat full of the fumes. It was young and desperate, seeming to come from the door to his right. With absolutely no issue he booted the door in and found a girl, about 12 years old, lay next to her couch. She held photographs on her arms and her cat lay in her lap covered by her jumper. Peter rushed over, swept her into his arms and ran to the open window without breaking his stride. She looked scared (naturally) and the cat startled because of it had been jolted quite suddenly. Her hands were dusted with soot and shook quite drastically because loosing the photos in her grasp was the worst thing in the world.

"I'm going to lower you down okay. I'll attach you to my web and then your cat okay? Once you get to the ground ran as fast as you can to the group of people standing all the way over there.’ He pointed to a small crowd gathered a safe distance away from the building. “I'll get you out just fine." She sniffed through her nose and then nodded, her grip on the cat was with an iron fist , she needed to be coaxed again by peter before she handed the animal to him. She was attached at both hips by webbing and gradually lowered to the ground. Cries left the girls mouth as she witnessed the damaged to the building on her way down. Once peter saw her safe he looked at the cat, who was clearly agitated and irate from all the commotion, before making a basket out of webbing in rapid time. He stroked the cat gently and smiled slightly before lowering the kitty down as well. Peter looked out of the window and saw the girl racing to a woman who was knelt with her arms open wide- her mother presumably.

Peter carried on with his evacuation mission and did a double check after his first sweep before declaring it completely void of people. Moaning, the building let the spiderling know that it was due to fall at any minute. His heart started to beat faster. _Bu-bum Bu-bum Bu-bum_. He was beginning to panic. Flashbacks drumming behind his eyelids. The building let out another wail. Memories of Homecoming. Pipes began to creak. _Toomes_. Even considering being left in the building when (because it was no longer an if) it crumbled sent him spiralling into a panic attack. His breathing was beginning to become worryingly laboured. _Rubble on top of him. Ribs cracking. Pushing himself up. The bones in his forearms breaking._ It was all starting to become to much for him. As he moved onwards to the window he pressed his comm.

"Erm guys the building clear... just thought you might want to know. But I know your busy so-"

Tony interrupted Peters ramble before he continued any further, "okay kiddo, just get out of there sharpish because that building doesn't look safe" Peter nodded before realising no one would see that. He coughed a little as he wafted smoke from his face before answering "okay Mr Stark" 

Trying so desperately to keep his voice sounded even. Peter was nearing the window when shit hit the fan (and then subsequently fell from the ceiling). One second Peter was looking out to freedom, away from the smoke and the fear and the next Peter was on his back, staring up to a popcorn ceiling and jagged, broken floorboards. Peter must have stood on the most unstable area of wooden floorboards because his foot fell straight through and he followed afterwards. He screamed as jagged wood scratched his skin and loose chips embedded themselves into his skin. He landed on the floor below- winded and bleeding- but before he had the chance to regain his breathe the whole building seemingly disintegrated and smothered Peter.

"-eter? Peter? Are you okay"

There was noise, no wait, it was a voice. Who the hell is speaking? Peter had to think. Concentrate peter. It look him a couple of seconds to remember who he was and where he was and ‘oh’ thats Mr Stark. He’s speaking through the communication device in his ear. It’s too loud, it needs to come out. Peter tried to move his arm to turn the comm of because Jesus fuck was it hurting his head to try and understand English from underneath the insatiable ringing in his ears. He groaned as pain shot up his arm and the ringing simply had gotten louder. It was unbearable now. His arm seemed to like being held underneath a part of the building and it all seemed far to familiar to Peter.

~

_Dust flitted around Peters eyes as concrete slabs crushed his chest and legs. Peter could hear the laughter of Toomes drifting away whilst he was left at a standstill with blood pooling around his face and chest. The fabric of his pathetic excuse of a first costume was torn and slightly singed in places- his mask asked on his face so the only logical thing was to take it off. Quivering fingers reached up to pull at the cloth and then suddenly it was easier to breathe (only slightly but still.)_

~

"D-define okay, mr stark" "Are you dying, underoos?"

Peter paused, he had to think about this and assess the situation, because although he was being squashed by rubble but he didn't think he was bleeding out. Logically, he could probably wait until everyone had finished because he wasn't exactly the priority right now. The priority was always the citizens of New York, and to successfully catches the criminals who set of the explosives in the first place. But, on the other hand, being immobilised by yet another building was freaking peter the fuck out and all he wanted was to be out of this prison. His breathing started to pick up, a constant theme of the night, but he was still coherent enough to be aware of the comm in his ear. He bit his lip before harshly pulling his arm from underneath a wooden beam. He knew what his answer was.

~

_Breathing was starting to become a challenge for him. Giving up seemed so easy now that he was slowly dying because of suffocation. Peter let his eyes slip shut as reality set in. His mind travelled to Mr Stark and what he said moments before kidnapping his suit "If you are nothing without the suit, then you shouldn't have it." That flash of memory gave him a sudden burst of adrenaline because now Peter wanted to prove that beyond the suit he still mattered, and he deserved to have it back. Sucking in a deep breath peter manoeuvred his arms to either side of his head and began to push up. Muscles strained and veins bulged as he pushed against the weight, fighting to live despite the odds being stacked against him. He knew this must be about 10 tonnes of rubble jumbled on top of him but that couldn't matter because he needed to save New York from Toomes._

~

He turned his comm off before sobbing at the throb in his arm. Something was wet and warm around hid wrist, Peter deducted that the beam his arm was pinned under must have torn at his skin. The pain in his arm seemed to mirror that of the banging in his head to which Peter had to commemorate his body on its brilliant synchronisation regarding his pain. Round of applause. After another three minutes peter managed to calm his breathing enough to turn the comm back on.

"-port, Peter report. Are you dying."

Oh yeah. Mr stark. "I'm not moving anywhere anytime soon Mr Stark. Finish the mission." Good. That’s good because Peter knows that unless it regards Spiderman then he’s not a good liar, so this vague response it good. It means that hopefully the Avengers will carry on helping the New York people like he wants them too. By rescuing Peter it runs the risk of civilians dying because the Avengers are not there to protect. It’s the Avengers job to help the people on earth without the billion dollar gear or supernatural powers and not to assist the boy who fell down a hole. Static echoed through the comm and God did it hurt Peters ears. Once the white noise lifted Steve’s voice echoed into his head. His voice was unsure and quite quiet because he must know that peter was bullshitting all of them about his current wellbeing. "Are you sure peter, there was a crash and you were silent for a little bit."

Peter isn’t stupid and he knew this was the moment he should have said 'help I'm under a building and I'm freaking out because I keep getting flashbacks of Toomes.' But he also isn’t selfish therefore every time he thought of telling the avengers of his predicament his mind counter offered the point that the civilians took priority. Thats what Hawkeye said right before they began fighting. **“Rescue all civilians, kid.”** So if any avenger left their post to help him it could very well endanger a mother, or two best friends or even a lowly criminal, concluding that no matter the occupation of the civilians, they were the more pressing issue. It wasn’t Spiderman. It was never Spiderman.

"Everyone will be more useful fighting the bad guy then fetching me Mr Captain America, sir. But if you could hurry it up that would be helpful." A hesitant hum vibrated into Peters ear from (presumably) Captain America as he clearly still doubted his words still but decided not to press the issue any further. Another explosion pulsated against his skull but Peter couldn't seem to tell the difference between a real life detonation or a concussion in his brain since both seemed to be happening and Peters head injury was making it hard to differentiate reality and his mentality. A silent chuckle managed to leave his lips as Peter began to envision him hallucinating due to the blood loss he will experience soon.

On the bright side, however, he building seemed to be lighter than the last incident so he knew getting out of the burden that is the building off of him. Looking at the other, darker side though, peter knew the reason he couldn't get out was because he was too panicked over the last kerfuffle with Liz' dad. It’s left him claustrophobic, he’s lost the ability to be rational in situations like this anymore, it was hardly surprising that the boy could barely hold it together, he struggled even getting into in an elevator anymore. Not only that but there was the slight issue of something penetrating his leg (a pain that has only just made itself known apparently) that seemed to be stuck into the debris underneath him also. With no way out it left the boy’s mind travel back to the Warehouse- focused on the resurgence of his lack of breath and aching skin and vibrating skull and, was his toe bent funny? All this thinking about bird brain sent him spiralling into the memory from that night. 

~

_Bones ground together as peter swung through New York to defeat Toomes. He was sure that the bones in his arms had shattered under the weight of debris and every move was agonising so all he wanted to do was mimic the warehouse and crumble to the floor in agony. Instead, though, the words of Tony Stark rang constantly though his head making him obliged to foresee that this 'mission' was completed._

_**"If you are nothing without the suit, then you shouldn't have it."** _

_He shot another web onto a nearby building, noticing the mechanical bird flying upwards through the clouds. That must be where the Invisible Jet must be. With another twist of broken bones Peter shot a web at the villain, and groaned to himself as he was jetted forwards once the web made contact with his plated foot. Wind was hitting his mask and the goggles around his eyes were digging into his skin. He couldn’t breathe. The pressure of the wind which was attacking him was constricting his already damaged chest._

**_"If you are nothing without the suit then you shouldn't have it."_ **

_Fighting Toomes did absolutely no favours to his body, Peter only hoped he could fix his injuries before they began to heal themselves with his metabolism being so fast. Blood trickled down his face as the battle waged on. With the Jet making it's unexpected descent into New York City Peter knew he had to divert the crash landing away from civilian life. With another grunt and a splash of pain in his arms he manoeuvred the plane to Coney Island where he crashed._

~

Peter was lifted from yet another flashback by the sound of Tony's voice droning through the ear piece, his tone was serious and lacked any of its usual sarcastic wit so Peter seemed to grasp that he was taking this battle seriously. It took peter another moment to understand fully that the line of conversation from Tony had been directed to him. He was groggy and confused, Peter was unsure as to whether he just passed out or disconnected from reality and into a flashback. "Right Peter, Nat and Bruce are wrapping up the bad guys so me and Tony are going to come rescue you. Okay?" Where you at underoos?" Metal shifted and whined around him as peter considered Mr Starks question carefully. Tony’s words floated around his head and he couldn’t quote seem to grasp onto them properly. He could begin to feel the effects of blood loss, he was woozy and barely thinking, which made him all the more happier for the Earths Mightiest Heroes to have perfect timing. Underneath his head was sticky and wet- when did it get sticky and wet?- peter didn't need to see it to know what that was, was blood. "Under th' rubble, 'm under th' rubble"

Silence.

All peter could think was ‘if this was a comedy there would be cricket noises’, it made Peter crack a small smile. All that could be heard on the comm was Peters ragged breathing and footsteps come to a halt. The silence was too long, too unsettling and Peter began to panic thinking that he had lost his hearing until Clints voice broke that silence quite quickly by reiterating Peter, "Did i hear him correctly? Did- did he just say he was under the rubble?" The question hung in the air like deceased pigs in a butcher before footsteps started to echo though his ear, picking up speed quite quickly. The only thought that peter could comprehend from said footsteps was **‘they** **zoomin’**. He couldn't tell how far away the runners were but he knew they would get to him quickly. They had to, they were the Avengers. The big, strong and fast Avengers. Peters breathing- he just noticed- had become quite laboured and out of nowhere it felt like oxygen seemed harder to grasp ahold of. Only now did peter realise that his predicament may be slightly more severe than he realised. Oops.

"He couldn't have said he was under rubble because that would be idiotic. Right?" That was Mr Stark, Peter knew he liked Mr Stark. Mr-Stark-who-he-should-call-Tony-because-Mr-Stark-asked-him-to-but-Peter-wants-to-call-him-dad. Peter smiled at the sound of his voice, he was coming to help because he was his dad and fathers always help their children. Peter was safe now because his dad was coming.

"...I think he's serious Tony." Peter was stopped in his thoughts about his dad by the sound of a woman- a gentle break from the baritone droll of all the men. The voice was calm in projection but frantic in the undertones. It was confusing his poor concussion-addled brain. He tried to concentrate on who the silk voice might belong to by ignoring the brass band's concert in his mind, soon recognising it to belong to Natasha Romanov- Black Widow. The spy lady. That’s why her voice was confusing him because he never knew what she really thought. Now it made sense. However, he thought that she was really mean to bewilder him like this. She should be upfront when she speaks because Peter is concussed and he can’t understand two separate meanings right now. The arm peter had ripped from underneath the oak plank had now, Peter realised, gone completely numb. He tried to wiggle his fingers but he couldn’t feel any wiggle. He chuckled slightly to himself wiggle is a funny word. **Wiggle wiggle.** Due to the fact that Peter’s arm could, for all he knew, have been ripped off his body he began to wonder if it would ever work again. Or if he would work again for that matter. The people in his head- no wait the Avengers in his com- were talking but the boy couldn’t tell what they were saying because he stopped listening.

“Ow”

A rush of noise broke out of the device in his ear which hurt his brain, but Peter managed to concentrate on one voice. Tony’s. “What is it kid. What hurts?” The boy ran his tongue over his lips, they were dry- far too dry. It took his brain a minute to catch up to the commotion (to the loco commotion) before opening his mouth to complain, “It’s m’ arm. ‘S not on m’ b’dy, c’nt feel it an’more. ‘S gone. I kn’w it ‘s” His ears became loud again with yelling. To much, too loud. Peter didn’t know what they were saying but to be honest he didn’t really want to. It sounded like they were yelling, so Peter concluded that they must be angry and because it was him who just spoke then they should be angry at him. He didn’t want people to be angry at him, he didn’t like yelling. Too loud. There was more footsteps now. Big stampede heading his way. **Stomp stomp**. The clutter the building left on top of him shifted slightly. Nothing big fell or relocated but with his spidey superheating Peter could hear small pieces of brick and concrete tumbling down the sides. Doing cartwheels (wheeeeeee). There seemed to be two sets of stompy footprints now, one in his brain and one outside his brain- outside of the rubble. Peter managed to breathe a sigh of relief. He would be okay now because the Avengers were here to save him. They saved the day and now they could save him.

Peters eyes started to close, and he had almost gotten them completely shut before he head a voice- when he heard his dad. “Okay Underoos we’re here at the building collapse, we are going to dig to get you out, okay? Just hold on a little bit longer, alright? Everything will be okay. It’ll be fine” Peter couldn’t quite separate if Mr Stark was trying to reassure himself or reassure him. Either was the boy was happy to hear him both through the device in his ear and just beyond the rubble. But it was getting harder to stay awake, and since they were here they just needed to dig him out so surely he could afford to sleep. Just for a bit, he was so tired now. All he wanted now was to rest. Instead, just to make it was okay with his dad, he mustered up enough energy to speak through the comms.

“Tired. ‘M tired d’d. W’nna sleep.” Peter could hear Fridays voice through Tony’s suit. She was telling him where Peter was located and the best way to remove the rubble without causing further injury, although Peter would argue that there could be no more further injuries because he seemed to have them all. He could also hear Tony speaking to him again, he was frantic now, no longer trying calm Peter down but trying to keep him conscious. He spoke with a pained dialect, which hurt peter to think that his mentor was upset. **Was he upset with him?** the Spiderling didn’t want his father figure upset with him, he didn’t know what he don’t but he knew he didn’t like this feeling. “Pete, kiddo, you have got to stay awake, okay? Keep your eyes open for a little while, for me. Please kid can you do that for me?” It was getting hard to speak now but he was asked a question by Tony so he had to answer, he always answered Tony because he loved him. So much. Peter took a deep breath in- ignoring the pain in his chest as it constricted- and responded. “Okay dad. I c’n do th’t”

Rubble was being taken off of him, only at the top but even so the pressure was lifting ever so slightly. He could hear laboured breaths from those nearest the impromptu demolition sight- those must be the avengers. He could also hear faint crying further away, lots of people old and young apparently. It took peter a second to think about who those could be before he remembered why he was being aggressively hugged by brickwork and splinters, and concluded that those cries must be from the people who he rescued in the building who were just looking on. Mr Iron Man was still spouting reassurances into his head as each piece of building was lifted off of him. No one seemed to address Peter calling Tony his dad but to be fair Peter was unaware at that moment that he wasn’t.

After a couple more minutes, maybe more than a couple, it might have been a large handful of minutes later light began to filter through his coven of darkness that the rubble created for him. It hurt his eyes so she squeezed them shut. **Ouch. Too bright**. He could hear Mr Starks voice loudly now, even louder than the football stadium screams that was the noise in his§ earpiece. It only meant one thing though. His dad was here and he saved him. If only peter could open his eyes to see him. “Peter!” That was directed at him. He groaned in response. His dad spoke again but it was different this time, he seemed to be speaking away from him. Not to him. Oh! He was speaking to someone else. “His arm is still attached but that the only positive I can give right now. He can’t even open his eyes.” His arm wasn’t gone? Oh, that’s good then. **I wonder why I can’t feel it**. Maybe it’s because it doesn’t want to talk to me anymore. All peter could comprehend now was that his dad was here and he could make it all better. He can sleep now because his dad is here. One last decision peter made was to open his eyes and see his dad. His eyes must be glued shut because they won’t open. Or is he blind. Oh no did I go blind. Why can’t my eyelids open. Peter moaned quietly, he was going to go to sleep now, however since he apparently had now gone blind it meant Peters only result was to say something to Tony before he fell into unconsciousness.

“L’ve you d’d. G’nna sl’p now. Buh-bye”

Peter fell asleep to the desperate cries of his dad.


End file.
